Home
by UnStabler
Summary: Elliot's own daughter is now a Special Victim. Suggested EO. Chapter six is up!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I double-spaced the dialogue for easier reading (the format didn't transfer from Word. Blast.) I also changed which daughter, because I'm the author, and... I can. And it worked better for later in the story. Trust me. Thank you so much for all the reviews!_

The rain was pouring Saturday night. Olivia, Elliot, Munch, Fin, even Cragen, had nothing to do. It was so cold outside, and the rain so torrential, it seemed not even hardcore perverts wanted to face the weather. They were all going bored out of their minds.

"Scrabble?" Munch asked sarcastically. "Trivial Pursuit?"

"Don't you know how to play any games that don't involve your massive intellect? Like, skills?" Elliot wondered aloud.

"C'mon, a dog wouldn't be out in this," Fin said. "Why are we all here again?"

"Because it isn't dogs we're dealing with," Olivia replied. She was trying to find something meaningful to do. She'd settled on cleaning out her desk. "Good God, this is from August. That was four months ago!"

"Five. It's January, hon," Elliot told her. She rolled her eyes at him and went back to throwing out papers, old candy wrappers, and a few other wrappers she'd rather none of the guys saw.

"Did you hear that?" Cragen asked.

"Hearing things, old man? Fin cracked with a grin.

"No, outside. Sounded like a girl."

"You're making things up. We're all bored out of our skulls. I can't remember a night this quiet," Munch remarked. "We're even nearly out of paperwork."

"I'm going to go look. If nothing else it'll get some fresh air."

No sooner had he put his hand on the door did it burst open, catching everyone by surprise, making them freeze for a moment. The figment of Cragen's imagination.

"What the-"

"Daddy... Daddy- where is he- please- DADDY!"

Everyone instantly sprang into action. Elliot crawled over his desk, scrambling over it rather than take the extra second and a half to walk around it. Olivia wasn't far behind him, as Cragen caught Elliott's youngest daughter.

"He- he- Daddy- I'm sorry- I tried-"

"Sweetheart, sweetheart, hush baby..." he soothed, taken Elizabeth from his captain. Every second of his training seem to disappear as he took in his daughter's face, her bruised face, her wet tangled hair, her bleeding lip. He looked into her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes, his eyes, and wiped the tears he saw there.

"Lizzie, what happened?" Olivia asked, every part of her radiating concern.  
It seemed everyone but Elliot knew the answer.

"He... raped me... I tried Daddy, I'm sorry, I tried to do everything you told me, but-" she crumbled once more into tears, curling her knees up against her body, sobbing.

Elliot couldn't say anything. The idea his daughter, his beautiful, perfect daughter could think she had failed him by being so horribly violated left him unable to speak.

Thankfully, Olivia suffered no such impairment.

"It's okay, honey. We're going to take you to the hospital, okay?"

"You mean- for the- no, I don't want to, please! I just want to go home... can't I take a shower? Daddy, take me home, please?"

"Sure, we'll leave now-"

"Elliot!" Olivia said sharply. Her voice, so hard, the voice she usually reserved for people in the interrogation room, seemed to get through to him. He bent down and looked once again at her. This time, he noticed her torn shirt, the black bra strap with the elastic shot, hanging off her shoulder. The blood on her jeans.

"Honey, you might... be hurt. We just need to make sure you're alright, okay?"

"But I don't... they'll touch... Daddy, I just want to go home!"

Olivia once again took the lead as her partner's face lost its composure and told her as gently as possible, "It won't take long. Then you can go home. We just want to be sure you're okay."

"Stay? With me, I mean? Please?"

"Of course, sweetheart..." Elliot told her, gently brushing some of her hair out of her eyes. "Of course I will."

"I mean... Olivia too?"

"Sure, honey. C'mon, let's go, okay?" She extended her hand to help Elizabeth up, expecting her to pull herself up. Elizabeth tried, but her knees buckled, falling against the floor before her father could catch her.

"I've got you. Don't worry, I can carry you..." he said softly, kissing her forehead. She buried her face into his flannel shirt, crying without reserve once more.

"I'm such a- a-," she gasped, sucking in each breath as if it might be her last, "b-b-baby. I didn't even- fight him-"

Every syllable seemed to cause two reactions within him- absolute rage for whoever had done this, and absolute love for his little girl. Olivia helped him gather his daughter in his arms, a stunned Cragen opening the door.

"I'll get the squad car," Munch said. It wasn't often he found himself out of the loop, out of touch, lost without an answer, a solution, but it seemed such a moment had descended.

Elliot sat on the hard hospital waiting chair, his forehead pressed into his hands. He was positive he had memorized every speck of dust on the otherwise white tile floor. The rythmic click of the clock behind him seemed to be like a blow to the head, each one making him want to grab the chair he was standing on and throw it at the blinded window where his partner and Elizabeth were.

He had finally convinced Cragen to stop pacing up and down the hall, which only served as another anxiety-producing irritant. His captain was now sitting in the chair opposite to him, reading some inane magazine. Whether he was actually reading it or flipping pages to give his hands something to do, Elliot couldn't tell.

Finally, after what seemed like a million too many years, the door opened and Olivia walked out. She looked shaken, and her eyes wouldn't met his.

"Olivia?" he finally said after she had stood there for a minute without saying anything.

Her throat worked, but nothing came out. Her hand flew to her mouth, then her eyes.

Cragen cleared his throat and said, "I'll just be going home, then." He gave his detectives one last look, and let them continue their staring contest, leaving silently.

"Elliot..."

"Olivia, please just say it."

"She has scar tissue. It's at least a few months old."

His face fell, while he tried to work through what he'd just heard. "It could be from having sex, I mean, she's not-"

His partner reached for his hand as she nearly choked on the words, "The scars are too deep to be from that."

He slowly sank back down into his chair, while his partner could almost hear the gears turning in his head, as he tried to go through all five stages of grief at lightspeed.

"But... how... she-" he stumbled, trying to get his train of thought to stop turning into actual words. He couldn't have spoken what his mind was saying if he wanted to, and given where they were headed, he wasn't sure that was the case.  
Olivia watched as his crystalline eyes, so much like his daughter's, flickered back and forth, half-closed, as if he had to concentrate extra hard to make sense of all this. She was absolutely torn. The cold, distant, trained part of her knew that she should stay silent and let him deal with this, to let him process what he had just heard. The man's partner and friend wanted to make this all go away for him and to turn back the clock about five hours, or stop him from putting all the emotion he was feeling in deep freeze.

Moments passed, and if she had been walking by she would have wondered if he had slipped into catatonia. She knew better than to interrupt him, but she couldn't help herself. She sat down in the chair next to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder gently.

"Elliot-" she whispered in a softer voice than he had ever heard before.

_"Someone raped my little girl, and I didn't know about it."_ He whispered for fear of screaming it. Tears nearly flew from his eyes, but he stopped them with a hand, or tried to.

"No," she said forcefully, taking his hand in hers. "No. Don't you _dare_, Elliot. Don't even try to pretend your daughter's innocence isn't worth crying over." She was careful not to raise her voice, but nothing could have prevented the iron emotion she felt from showing.

"Olivia-" he choked, as he finally let the tears he had been holding back all night down. He covered his face with his hands, sobbing. She wrapped her arms around him, letting him lean against her and put her head on his shoulder.

"It'll be okay. She'll be okay. We've seen it happen. She'll have everything she needs. It'll be okay," she whispered. She must have said it fifty times before he calmed down enough to let her go. He pulled back, wiping his face, and Olivia produced a Kleenex from her pocket. He chuckled as she handed it to him, a smile on her face.

"You know this shirt's dry clean only, and I just let you get snot all over it."

She said it so matter-of-factly, like it was an everyday occurance for her to see him cry and to support him, instead of the other way around, that he had to smile.

"You are unbelievable..."

"Is that a compliment?" She was glad they could fall into this, their comfortable give and take routine.

Before he had a chance to answer, he heard from down the hallway a singularly shrill voice yell, "ELLIOT STABLER!"

He closed his eyes and muttered, "Kathy," just as his ex-wife came running down toward him.

"Where is she? Is she alright? What HAPPENED? Why didn't you CALL me? Why did someone else have to? How-"

"Kathy, calm down, she's okay, she's up getting her rape kit done-" he explained, but she cut him off.

"ALONE? You left her there all by herself?"

"I was with her. She's done, she's probably still taking a shower," Olivia said, trying to step between them before she clawed his eyes out.

"Was I_speaking_ to you?" Kathy asked icily, not even looking at her.

Olivia knew that Kathy had thought for years that Elliot had been having an affair with her. She always tried her best to be friendly anyway, but tonight she snapped.

Elliot stared in some mixture of horror, amusement, and disbelief at his partner and ex-wife. Had she really just slapped her? Crap, who was he supposed to defend? I mean, she had been his wife for twenty years years, had four kids with her, but she was totally out of line and Olivia hadn't even done anything-

Fortunately, Olivia spared him the trouble. "Go see your daughter. Fight with him later."

Kathy looked at the two of them wordlessly, her hand up to her cheek, then walked down to the nurse's station to ask which room Elizabeth was in.

As soon as he was relatively sure Kathy couldn't hear, he burst out laughing. All the pent-up tension, the aftermath of his crying jag, and (he had to admit) the out-right hiliarity of what had just happened got to him, and soon it got to Olivia. She cracked a grin and sat cross-legged on the floor.

"I totally didn't mean to do that," she said once he'd stopped.

"The hell you didn't," he said, catching his breath.

"Okay, maybe I _wanted_ to-"

Elliot shook his head. "I never could convince her I wasn't sleeping with you."

Olivia snorted. "I could have. I haven't gotten laid in so long I'm sure the signs of sexual frustration must be obvious."

He blinked, and she laughed. "Is there any kind of response to that that won't get me in trouble?"

"No. So don't try."

"Daddy?" Kathleen asked as she turned the corner, her brother and sister holding both her hands. "Mom never came back to the car-"

Elliot scrambled up and hugged his other children. "Elizabeth's gonna be okay."

"Daddy, what happened?" Dickie asked him, so innocently.


	2. Chapter 2

"Elliot?" Olivia said softly, gently shaking him awake. He'd fallen asleep, stretched out over the hospital chairs. He stirred and jumped as he awoke, taking a moment to let his brain catch up. Light streamed through slits in the blinds.

"How is she?" he asked before his eyes could even focus.

"She's okay, all things considered. A sprained ankle, and she fractured her hand. We should be able to find the perp just from the shiner she gave him," she said with a smile. "They found fluids, but... they were too mixed with blood. She wants to see you."

He sprang up, the blood rushing so quickly from his head he was dizzy for a moment. Olivia led him to her room, and left them alone, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Hi Daddy," she said. She was curled up around a stuffed horse that Kathy must've brought- one he had given her for her birthday years ago.

"Hey honey. Good morning." He sat beside her bed, and took one of her hands in his. "I didn't even think you still had that."

"What, Pony? Of course I do," she smiled softly. He smiled back.

"You sleep okay?" For some reason, it was easy to forget what had happened to her. To pretend she was in the hospital for a broken hand, and not a broken heart.

"Yeah. When can I go home?"

"As soon as they say you're okay, honey."

"Which would be right about now, Miss Stabler," a nurse said cheerfully, swooping into the room in brightly-printed scrubs.

"Your mom brought you some clothes to wear home- they're in the bag under your bed. As soon as you're dressed, come outside and we'll take you through discharge, alright sugar? Mr. Stabler, may I speak to you outside? Just an insurance matter."

He squeezed Elizabeth's hand, then followed the nurse into the hallway.

"My insurance is through the city, it should-"

The nurse cut him off with an efficient tone of voice. "You need to think about what kind of therapy you want for her. This attack was not her first. And it was more brutal than most- she's already got signs of PTSD, and the sooner you can get her help, the better."

"What? What do you mean, 'more brutal than most'? What happened?" His voice cracked, but there was no mistaking the urgency in his tone.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that- your daughter has to give me permission, and she explicitly asked me not to give you details."

"I'm her father!"

"And I'm under HIPPA regulations. Look, if it was up to me, I would have dragged you down here to hold her hand during the exam, but for whatever reason, she only wanted her mom there."

"Her mom? But... she didn't get here until after the exam was done."

"Then who was with her?"

"My partner, Olivia Benson- we work at Special Victims Unit."

"Oh... your daughter said she was her mother."

"You ready?" he asked Elizabeth, flipping through papers to make sure he had signed all of them.

"Yeah," she replied tiredly. "Can you help me up? I'm still... sore."

He looked up. He was pained to see how tired she looked- like she had just run a marathon, on no sleep. "Sure, hon." He grasped her forearm and helped her to stand up. She held onto his hand as they walked, something she hadn't done in years. Olivia had taken a cab home, and was picking them up in her car- his was still at the station. She was waiting right outside the doors.

"Hey, beautiful," she said brightly.

"Well, thanks," Elliot said with an absurd smile. Olivia's only response was to smack the back of his head and roll her eyes, while Elizabeth giggled. She'd never seen this side of her dad before- she couldn't remember the last time she saw him smile and laugh with her mom.

"I stopped and picked up some food. I hope you like greasy burgers, Liz."

"Oh, it's... um, I'm not hungry. Thanks though," she said quickly, ducking into the front seat of the car.

"No problem," Olivia said, handing Elliot his bag, then getting behind the wheel, french fries already stuffed in her mouth. Elliot thought of all those years ago, when Maureen had tried her hand at being anorexic. They never really discovered what all that was about- she just eventually started eating again and never looked too thin, so that was the end of it. He hadn't given it a second thought, until now. He knew that rape victims often suffered from eating disorders, but he was sure he could take care of her. She would never doubt how beautiful she was, even if he had to tell her three times a day. The nurse's words- _"brutal... therapy... signs of PTSD..."_ all flashed through his memory. He turned it off like he would an annoying song on the radio, with the same distance and cold efficiency.

"Where to?" Olivia asked. She knew where Elizabeth wanted to go -her dad's house- but she knew Elliot expected to take her to Kathy's.

"Take a left up here-" Elliot started, but Elizabeth cut him off.

"Can I go to your house, daddy? Please?" she asked, her voice on the edge of frantic. She turned around, and he was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

"Of course, sweetie." He didn't ask why, but he had an idea it might have something to do with Kathy's reaction to all this. She wasn't known for a calm exterior under pressure. "Do you want to stop by your mom's and get some clothes, though?"

"There's three changes of clothes in the bag I brought," Olivia answered before thinking about it. "They should fit."

"You know, I thought there was something familiar about the stain on that shirt," Elliot said, putting two and two together. He leaned forward to whisper in Elizabeth's ear, "No idea how she doesn't weigh three hundred pounds. She eats like a pig."

"Pot calling kettle black! Who goes through every Three Musketeers bar in the vending machine?" she said with a smile, sticking her tongue out at him in the rearview mirror.

"You."

"Excuse me? Is this the thanks I get for spending fifteen bucks on a cab, buying you food, AND driving you all over town? Ridicule and shame?"

"What do you think, Liz? Sound about right?" he asked, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned forward, cocking one eyebrow. She laughed and pushed his forehead back with the heel of her hand.

"You guys are as bad as me and Dickie."

"Just him," Olivia said, giving her a wink.

"Not true, and I saw that."

"You were supposed to."

The banter continued on the way to Elliot's house, and Elizabeth was glad that they weren't grilling and drilling her. If she heard it wasn't her fault one more time, she was going to scream.

"Do you have any CDs?" she asked Olivia shyly. Unlike her sisters, she had never really been around Olivia much. From how she had acted at the hospital, when her mom had shown up, she liked her already.

"Sure- look in the case under your seat," Olivia said, flipping her blinker on to get onto the highway. "Merge means GO FAST- WHY ARE YOU BRAKING- aaaaaand getting into my lane. Lovely."

"Skinny one's the gas pedal," Lizzie said at the same time as her dad. It was his favorite thing to yell at the window and drivers he thought were going too slow. He leaned forward again to say something, when he saw the collection of music in her lap.

"Spice Girls? Are you serious? I think Maureen had that CD when she was nine, Liv."

"Shut up, El," Olivia said, trying to get over to the fast lane and turn the page in the CD case before he could see-

"Was that _Creed_ I just saw?"

"I give lots of kids rides home, you know-"

"Then why do you have a burned copy with little hearts on it?"

Olivia deigned this too absurd to be granted comment, and decided to concenrate on driving. Elizabeth popped in a country CD and waited for the groans.

_"Hustlers shootin' eight ball, throwin' darts at the wall, feelin' damn near ten feet tall-"_

Sure enough, as soon as Elliot recogonized the song, he made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh.

Olivia flashed her a grin, "Your dad HATES this song. He never lets me play it."

"Give me a break. "'Donkey Kong'?" I mean-" he was drowned out by Olivia and Lizzie singing, "HONKYTONK BADONKADONK" at the top of their lungs. He complained a little more just to let them know he was sufficiently tortured to satisfy their cruelty, inwardly glad that Elizabeth was so relaxed around him and Olivia.

"Do I force you guys to listen to music you don't like?"

"Yes," they answered automatically, and laughed together. She perked up when they reached Elliot's apartment. She opened her door, and tried to hop out of the car, moving a mile a minute as usual. She was shocked when her body swayed, and she had to grasp the door frame to keep from falling.

"Easy, killer," Elliot said, gripping her good hand and helping her to steady herself. He was hurt to see tears spring to her eyes. She shrugged his hand off, and shuffled towards the house, the playful girl suddenly gone. Olivia traded uneasy looks with him, and caught up with her, leaving Elliott to get the bag.

"Hey... your body is just a little weak right now, from the shock, but it'll get better-"

"It will. I won't," she whispered, turning away from Olivia. Elliot walked up, and touched her shoulder, only to be greeted with an all too familiar startle response.

He would never be able to forget that right now, his daughter's life- his life- would be divided into before and after. She was a rape victim now, and only time would tell when she made it from that, to a survivor.


	3. Chapter 3

(AN- OK, I'm a bad author. I have absolutely no clue how old Elizabeth is- I'm trying to catch up with USA- I'm a recent addict. For all intents and purposes, it's a few years after the divorce, and she's fifteen about to be sixteen. Artistic license and all that. Thanks everyone for the reviews! I'm trying to update weekly.)

_Two weeks later_

Elliot heard a knock on his door, jolting him awake. He scrambled for some clothes, then walked through his living room. He was shocked to see Kathy and Elizabeth standing there through the peephole and immediatly opened it.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him, and cried. He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. Her only response was to hug him tighter.

Kathy sighed, and he saw tears in her eyes. "She feels safer with you," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Elizabeth said, letting go of her father.

"Why don't you guys come in," Elliot said. He opened the door wider for them, and sat down on his couch with Elizabeth, Kathy choosing a chair across from them.

"She keeps having nightmares. She'll just scream and scream-"

"I'm in the room!" Elizabeth said angrily. Kathy pursed her lips and looked like she was about to snap right back, when Elliot stopped them both.

"Fine," Kathy said, standing up. "Is it okay if she stays here?"

Elliot was dumbfounded. "Uhm-"

"Good. Some of her stuff is in the car." She stalked out the door, slamming it behind her.

Elliot blinked. Elizbeth rolled her eyes and said, "She's mad at me. She's _always_ mad at me."

"What do you mean?"

"She's just snapping at everyone. Being a bitch," she said harshly.

"I HEARD that," Kathy announced from the now-open door, a few plastic bags in her hands. She dumped them at the door, then turned on her heel and headed to her car. Tires squealed as Elliot closed the door softly.

"Your mom is having to work really hard-" he started, before Elizabeth cut him off.

"So? And you didn't? You worked three times as hard as she did, dealing with God knows what, hauled out of the house at least twice a week-" she stopped herself and flopped back down on the couch after grabbing her things.

Elliot sighed and joined her. "So. Nightmares."

Elizabeth curled her legs up under her and played with the drawstring on her pajamas. "Yeah. I'm freaking everyone out. Mom snapped tonight... it was the third time this week I woke everyone up screaming. Kathleen was crying."

Elliot twisted his mouth to the side, thinking. "Maybe you should try talking to someone."

Elizabeth smiled at him, and said sadly, "Who would understand?" He put his arm around her, and she leaned into him.

"When does it end?"

He had no answer for her. He nudged her over, then went to the closet and pulled out a blanket. She scooted over, and he lay back down on the sofa, his daughter in his arms.

_He left the light on_, Elizabeth noticied. She smiled, and went to sleep. Elliot soon followed.

"You alright?" Olivia asked him as he sat down at his desk, seeing the circles under his eyes and the grim line of his lips. He grimaced, looking at his watch and said, "Wow, you're getting slow. That was a whole minute and a half after I got in the door."

"Smartass."

"Punk."

They settled into the morning routine of paperwork, coffee, and bitching about the paperwork and the coffee. In reality, paperwork was better than cases- paperwork didn't cry.

"Olivia Stabler?" Fin's far too happy voice called out, jarring them out of the stupor three hours of staring at legal jargon had caused.

"The hell?" Olivia and Elliot said at the same time. They both got up and turned to see Fin standing beside a tall, thin young woman with long hair braided into pigtails. Her jeans were torn at the pockets, and her boots were scuffed and scarred from working. Black oval lenses framed green eyes that looked too old for such a young face.

"I'm Olivia _Benson_ and this is my partner _Elliot_ Stabler," she answered.

"Sorry- I got a message from a Doctor Skoda that I was supposed to talk to a somebody Stabler about his daughter, and if I couldn't reach him to talk to Olivia something, but I spilled Coke on the note my assistant took- yeah, so anyway. Hi. I'm Morgan McDonnell. I'm the assistant director of Mountain Laurel," she said genially, with an awful Southern accent. She extended her hand and Olivia shook it, then offered it to Elliot, who shook it carefully.

"Texas?" he asked, and she laughed.

"Never could get rid of my accent. I'm just a good ol' South Texas cowgirl," she replied with a smile. "No idea how I ended up in New York. Too cold if you ask me, but then I spent most of my life thinking sixty degrees was cold. Are you busy now?"

"Actually, a little..." he said regretfully. This was the one shrink that reminded him nothing of Huang or Skoda, which was always a plus. He already seen four that they had suggested, and Elizabeth seemed to take as dim a view of them as he did.

"Don't worry," Fin said quickly. "Olivia Stabler and I can handle it." Olivia rolled her eyes, and to everyone's surprise, actually blushed.

"I'm never going to live this down, you know," she told Morgan, who chuckled. "Nice to meet you," she told Olivia, shaking her hand again.

As soon as Fin and Olivia walked away, Olivia smacking him for another whispered "Olivia Stabler", Morgan turned her thousand-watt smile on Elliot again. "Wanna go out to lunch? I've got my boss's credit card."

Elliot accepted, and as he went to get his coat, he noticed Olivia giving the woman a look that would have peeled paint. She quickly looked down when she noticed he had seen her face, and pretended to ignore Fin teasing her.

"Did I just hear the words Olivia Stabler?" Munch asked as Elliot and Morgan walked out the front doors. They both laughed as they heard Olivia's emphatic "NO."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Morgan said under her breath as she unlocked her car door. Elliot pulled the handle, but it was still locked. She leaned over the console and unlocked it, explaining as he got in that she'd had this car since she started college.

"I've kicked the crap out of this car," she said. "Neither of the front blinkers work and only the back right window rolls down. And I need gas."

"Turn right on your way out," he said as he put on his seatbelt. "So, what's the deal with Mountain Laurel?" he asked. "I've have looked at so many treatment programs, I've kinda lost count." She pulled out of the parking lot and in the direction of the nearest gas station.

"Trust me, I know the feeling. Well, I was fresh out of grad school in Texas when I found the place- my dad knows another shrink up here. It's a residential treatment facility for survivors of rape or sexual assault. Basically a ten dollar word for nut house." When he flinched at her brusque choice of words, she pulled up the sleeve of the hand on the steering wheel with her free one. Her forearm was covered in scars, with three diagonal gashes, white with age and raised, running across her wrist. "I say that with great affection. Spent most of my youth trying to avoid them.

"Mountain Laurel is unique in that we only treat rape victims. Some of our clients are sent to us fresh out of the hospital, some months, years or even decades later. Self-injury, eating disorders, sexual disorders, borderline personality disorder, depression with PTSD, flashbacks- you name it, we got it. We use a mixture of conditional behaviour modification- do you know what that is?" she asked, realizing she had slipped into what she called "shrink speak".

When Elliot shook his head, mildly fascinated by the horrible, deep lines on her skin, she went on, "It's basically using cause and effect in simple situations that we set up to teach broader, more complex psychological constructs. We combine that with your run of the mill psychotherapy. It works pretty well."

"Sounds like you have some personal experience," he said. She shrugged and looked fixedly ahead. She pulled into the gas station and parked her car, coming to a stop smoothly. She stepped out of the car, popped the tank, and slid her card into the reader. He got out of the car and stood beside her as she pumped gas into her dilapidated little sedan.

"I was raped when I was eight by my grandfather. Tried to kill myself when I was eleven. My mom attempted suicide when I was fourteen and I found her. Started cutting after that, tried to kill myself a few more times. Spent about half my life anorexic, screwed my chances for having kids. Fifteen years of therapy, eight psychotropic drugs and lots of friends later, here I am."  
She said this efficiently, not void of emotion, but without any distress either. She spoke with the same feeling as she did when describing her car- a broken down little thing that had served her well.

"I'm sorry," Elliot said, not knowing what else to say. He usually saw victims cry after telling stories like that. Morgan shrugged and pulled the nozzle from her car and replaced it, twisting the gas cap on with her other hand.

"Don't be. He's dead now, I'm happy to say. He'll get his due."

Elliot blinked. This was the first rape survivor he believed when he heard her say she felt she was over it now, and told her as much when they were in the car again. She shook her head, saying, "You never get over it all the way. I still have bad days- nightmares about it when I'm stressed out, days it's all I can do to eat half a PopTart and getting out of bed seems impossible. You deal with it. That's what I teach my girls- it's a lot easier to deal with once you stop trying to pretend you can be normal again, that you'll get your old life back. This is your life now, and it comes with its own blessings."

"Blessings?" he asked incredulously.

"Blessings," she repeated. "You'll hear that speech later. I spent three years in grad school perfecting it, and I need time to do it justice." Elliot digested this for a moment, and she let silence fall in the car for a few moments.

"Do you have any idea where I'm going? Because I don't."

"Oh, uhm..." he said quickly, looking around for a street sign. "If you turn around and take the second left back there, there's a steakhouse."

"Sweet," she said, taking a quick right turn at the next light to cut through a parking lot. "So tell me about your daughter."

"You know it's illegal to do that," he remarked. She smirked and rolled her eyes.

"Sure do. Nice try, by the way."

"I don't like psychologists."

"Good, me neither. My bachelour's is in special education and my master's in social work. No more a shrink than you are. Bad experience?"

"I was reviewed a while back because of something I said that I shouldn't have."

"Spilled the beans, did he?"

"She. And it was crap."

"What'd you say?" When he hesitated, she said, "Hon, I've either heard of it or lived it myself. You won't surprise me."

"Told a doc they sent in to make sure none of us were crazy that I thought of how I could get away with killing rapists."

She stared at him open-mouthed. "They wrote you up for THAT? Good God, there's a bunch of assholes who've never worked with rape victims before." She turned her gaze back to the road, looking for the place. "I couldn't do your job. I'd find a way to make sure they all looked like suicides."

"And your job is any better?"

"I don't have to touch the scum that hurt innocent women and little girls. I can do something for them, I can tell them it'll get better- I can SHOW them it does. I can have my happy little revenge fantasies from a safe distance and pretend I'm aiming at every bastard's head when I take my girls target shooting." She shook her head again. "I could have shot my rapist in cold blood, in the dark while he slept in his hospital bed. And _smiled."_ Now, iron will kept the pain and anger out of her voice, but it was a near miss, and Elliot noticied. He liked her.

"So, that's my sob story." Her dark face vanished as quickly as it had appeared.  
"Tell me about your daughter."

Elliot swallowed, pursing his lips. "She won't tell me what- what happened."

"There's more to her than what happened to her. What's she like? What does she do?"

She let him think about that for a minute. "Turn here?" she asked. He nodded. She parked the car somewhat inexpertly and hopped out of the car.

"Don't bother locking it. I would love for someone to steal this piece of crap," she said. They started walking towards the restaurant. Morgan cracked her neck, and Elliot winced.

"Keep talking, or I'll snap it the other way."

"She's shy. She's the youngest- her and her twin brother, Dickie. She has two older sisters."

"How does she do in school?"

"She does okay." He paused, remembering this morning. Elizabeth had cried that morning, begged him not to make her go to school. He had let her stay home, leaving her curled up watching movies, with strict instructions to call him if she needed anything. "She doesn't want to go. She's skipped a lot since this happened."

Morgan nodded. "That's normal. It's hard to concentrate," she said. "How old is she?"

"Fifteen. She'll be sixteen in a few months."

"She know how to drive?" She laughed when Elliot shuddered and opened the door for her.

"Don't remind me."

"Alright, so what else? Do the kids live with you?"

Another pause. "That would be a no," she answered for him. They slid into a booth, and Elliot immediatly picked up a menu.

"Dude, it's a steakhouse. Sirloin, rare." She felt, rather than saw, the tension and unease he felt whenever she pressed too hard. She hoped that she could work that out of him, and planned on asking him in a more roundabout way.

He peeked over at her from the menu. "That's disgusting."

"I like my steak to moo at me," she said flippantly. "God, I miss Texas sometimes. Yankees don't know how to do ANYTHING."

"What can I get you two today?" their waiter asked. "Start off with drinks?"

"Just water," Elliot said, still perusing his menu.

"Can I get a virgin pina colada?" Morgan asked. "And if Mr. Well Done here is ready, I'd like the eight-ounce medallion, medium rare." The waiter took her order down, then looked at Elliot, who shook his head to indicate he wasn't ready.

"Virgin?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow. "What are you, Mormon?"

She smiled wickedly. "Actually..."

"Oh, God," he said, laughing. "Open mouth, insert foot."

"Don't worry about it. You'd never know it to look at me."

"We stopped going to church after... after the divorce."

"Catholic?"

"Why?"

"You look guilty." He chuckled and accepted his water from the waiter with a thank you. Morgan took her drinkas well, and popped the cherry in her mouth with relish, stem and all. She pulled the stem out of her mouth, tied into a knot.

"Smartass," he said. "How do you do that?"

"Great skill," she replied with a laugh. "I remember I was bored out of my mind at a date, and I had a cherry shake. I was playing the stem in my mouth, trying to knot it- trust me, he was that dull. It was all I could do not to jump up and yell, 'I GOT IT!'"

"Is your whole family Mormon?"

"Yup. Three wives and all." At his slightly horrified look, she had to chuckle. "No, I'm the only member in my family. And the church doesn't practice polygamy." She thought for a moment, debating whether to ask her next question. "So how's your faith these days?"

"Why is that important?"

"It's not."

He sighed- she had hit a rather sore spot. "Do you ever wonder why God lets bad things happen to innocent people?"

"All the time. I do a lot of volunteer work with disabled people as well... they have such beautiful souls, and spirits. I wonder what they did that God thinks they deserve this life."

"How do you deal with it?"

She drank her virgin thoughtfully for a moment, thinking. "I think God does everything for a reason. I know that He loves His children, and that He hates to see them hurting. But He can't stop people from hurting them- otherwise, where is our free will? It's someone's choice to rape, to hurt, to kill. Their victims, though... I don't know anyone who hasn't thought, 'Why me? Why was _I_ raped? What did I do to deserve this?' But maybe it was me... because I'm strong. And He knew that. He knew I would overcome. I had to believe that. I had to believe I _could_ recover. The ones that don't... maybe they don't believe. Maybe they can't bring themselves to." She shook her head, sadness in her green eyes. "That doesn't always, work though. I just have to trust that I'll know why one day."


	4. Chapter 4

"Let me see your cell phone," Morgan said during lunch. She stuffed a large mouthful of her salad in her mouth and hastily wiped Caesar dressing off her chin. If watching her eat like a pig didn't get this guy to relax, nothing would.

"Why?"

"Morbid curiousity." When he still didn't move, she said, "It's a surprise. What, you have nine-hundred numbers in it?"

He handed it to her warily. She flipped it open and scrolled through his contacts until she found the one she was looking for.

"Hello, the one-six please. Thank you." Elliot cocked an eyebrow at her accent, which was suddenly much thicker and smoother, which she returned. He laughed- not many people had his trick of only raising one.

"Yes, may I speak to the Captain please? Hello, I'm Miss McDonnel, the assistant director of Mountain Laurel where Detective Stabler is thinking of placing his daughter. I was hoping to see what date would be approriate for him to take some time to see our facility and work with us a bit with his daughter." She paused, and reached into her bag for a small notebook and pen. "That would be lovely. Thank you so much, sir. You too." She flipped the phone shut and handed it back to him.

"You are evil," he informed her, crossing his arms. Morgan laughed and batted her eyes innocently.

"Why? For your information, I got you the rest of today and tomorrow of. Consider yourself officially kidnapped." Another forkful of lettuce made it into her mouth. "Is your daughter home?"

"Yes," he replied, taking a bite of his own salad, which was much smaller than hers. "Why?"

"I'd like to meet her. She's the one I'll be dealing with for the next six months, not you."

"Six months!" Elliot exclaimed. He had expected six weeks, at most. He couldn't begin to imagine what Elizabeth needed six months of therapy for.

"Unless she wants to leave before then. Your daughter hasn't even begun to feel the full effects of her rape. Neither have you, for that matter. I won't do her the disservice of telling her she's fine, adios, goodnight and goodluck before she knows how bad it can be."

His blue eyes went from crystal to cobalt in an insant, closing to slits with intensity. She continued without giving him a chance to ask. "You'll find out what I mean. It's not anything I can tell you, or her. Nothing prepares you for it. What I went through won't be what she did; what anyone else experiences won't be the same. It's all relative. The worst thing that happened to her hurts her as badly as the worst thing that happened to me hurts me."

"Hurts," he said, laying his fork down for emphasis, steel ringing on the porcelain. Her eyes never left his throughout the conversation, sapphire to emerald. "Present tense."

Morgan unconciously jutted her chin outstubbornly. "I will always live with what happened to me. But it will not control me. There is no forgetting. There is no putting it behind you. Maybe other victims kid themselves into thinking they're not held by it-"

"Maybe some of them don't feel the need to have it define their lives."

"Take care to remember which one of us has more personal experience with this, _Detective Stabler,_" she hissed, lowering her voice. Her jaw was clenched, and her eyes became as dark as his. "I'm trying to help you. I realize that's difficult, but I'd rather not have this turn into a pissing match over who knows what's best. You know your daughter better than I ever could. I know what it's like to be a rape victim. Both of us can help her. Don't think I can help her better than you can just because I know what it's like."

"And what is it like?" he asked softly. His anger had faded as her passion rose, and he had to give her credit for how much she seemed to care about his daughter, a girl she had never met.

Morgan knew what had pissed him off- he didn't want to think his daughter would always carry this burden for the rest of her life. He wanted his daughter to be innocent again, to not know what it's like for the world to be so hideously unfair. She let it go, but even then... she wasn't about to tell him what her life was like. Somehow, even though she shared it with hundreds of people on a stage twice a year for her job, it seemed too personal to tell him, just him.

She looked aside, her gaze following the cars on the street outside the window. Elliot recognized the look on her face- the look of someone trying to put into words what they wished they didn't even know. He suddenly felt like he was taking a victim's statement, and he felt the familiar surge of anger for whoever had hurt her.

The arrival of their food spared her having to answer. She accepted her plate with a nod of thanks, as did Elliot.

"I can't believe you got fish. At a steakhouse. Dead Texans should haunt you in your sleep."

"Pot calling kettle black," he said, crossing his arms.

"What?"

"Nice subject change."

"Oh, bite me," she said with her mouth full. "Eat your fish before I smack you." She sliced another piece of her steak off, and dipped it in sauce before putting it daintily in her mouth. "I've been shrinked by better men than you, my dear."

"Same to you," he said, taking an exordinate amount of care in cutting his fish.

"So what do you think of me, then?" she asked unexpectedly after a moment of silence.

Her question caught him off-guard, and he quickly swallowed. "You're strong."

"Thank you." She was still looking at him expectantly. "And?"

"You obviously know what to do..."

"How do you think I'll be for your daughter? For you?"

This gave him pause, and he rested his chin on his hand. "I think she'll like you. She likes Olivia, and you remind me of her."

Morgan snorted. "God I hope not." He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and she answered with a laugh, "The last thing I need is for someone with as much repressed sexual tenstion as you to decide I'll do as a subtistute." She raised her drink and downed the last of the syrupy ice at the bottom in one long tilt. She smacked her lips and sat it down, thenburst out laughing when shesaw the look on his face. It was somewhere between amusement and horror- which told her she'd been right on the money.

"Oh, please. Don't tell me you wouldn't if she was anyone but your partner."

"What- I- you- how-" he stammered, having no idea how to answer that. She stopped him as he started to repeat himself.

"Don't hurt yourself," she said, still chortling to herself. "I apologize for my lack of tact."

Elliot wisely chose not to dignify this with comment. Morgan laughed again, and polished off her steak.

"So, how about we go see this daughter of yours."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Kinda nice for a cop," Morgan said as she walked up the stairs to Elliot's apartment.

"Detective."

"Ah, right. 'Scuse me." Elliot unlocked the door and held it open for her.

"Lizzie?" No answer. "Elizabeth?" he called a bit more urgently

A head with tousled hair poked around the corner. "What are you doing home?"

"I live here," Elliot said jokingly. Elizabeth smiled, then saw Morgan.

"Hey. I'm Morgan." She smiled back and got a wave in return.

"Elizabeth."

"Captain gave me the rest of the day off," Elliot explained. "You hungry?"

"No, I just ate. What's up?"

"I'm a friend of your dad's," Morgan said. "I wanted to check if it was okay with you if I crashed here for awhile." Elliot tried to hide his surprise at both these lies- clearly, asking him to play along wasn't part of her plan.

"Yeah, sure. Fight you for the couch, though," Elizabeth said. "Where the heck are you from?"

"Lizzie," her dad said. She rolled her eyes at him as Morgan replied, "Texas, darlin'. Just a good ol' country girl." Elizabeth laughed, and they all sat down on the couch, Morgan in the middle.

"Why did you move here?"

"Jobs. More work for me up here."

"What do you do?"

"I have a degree in special ed," Morgan said smoothly. _This is going perfectly, _she thought to herself.

"Oh, okay."

"Morgan works with Dr. Huang sometimes. With disabled kids," Elliot said, providing her with an explanation for how they knew each other.

They made small chat for a little longer,drinking soda and flipping through the channels to find that nothing's on in the middle of the day, finallytalking about work and school and how much traffic sucked and how much better Morgan thought Texas was, to which both Elliot and Elizabeth vehemently disagreed with- when Morgan played her hand.

She peeled her long-sleeved shirt off, revealing the tank top she had on underneath.

"Sorry, I'm kinda hot," she said non-chalantly. She reached forward to grab her Coke can and in the process showed Elizabeth the numerous scars on her arm. Elizabeth stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Where- how..." she started. She took a breath and asked, "What happened to you?"

Morgan gulped her soda then sighed. "Asked someone too many personal questions."

Elizabeth laughed, and Elliot flicked his eyes to his daughter's arms. He didn't see any scars, but then again, he hadn't noticied Morgan's until she had shown him. He wondered what secrets lay underher skin.

"Did you do that?" Elizabeth asked, knowing she was being rude but she had to know.

"Mmm-hm," Morgan said simply, nodding her head. "I was really fucked up when I was your age." Elizabeth looked at her sideways, and Morgan laughed. "Trust me. It gets better, I promise."

"Hey, Elliot, would you go out to the car and grab my purse? I left my cell in it." She had done no such thing- she in fact had brought it in with her and dropped it cleverly beside the chair so that her long jacket covered it. But she knew it would occupy him for a few minutes, at least.

As soon as Elliot left the room, Morgan leaned towards Elizabeth. "Your dad told me what happened to you." She saw her stiffen immediatly, and said quickly, "He told me because the same thing happened to me. That's why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you and see if maybe... talking to someone who'd been through it would help."

"Well it won't," Elizabeth snapped. "Nothing will help. Nothing will make this go away! God, what IS it with you people! Why do you expect everything to get better every time I rehash this fucking story, so you can pat me on the head and tell me it wasn't my fault! You don't even know what HAPPENED! How do you know I didn't throw myself stark naked at his feet and beg for it!"

"Because if you had," Morgan said quietly, "that still doesn't give anyone the right to hurt you. To make you bleed. If you had asked for it, if you had wanted it, it wouldn't give you nightmares. You wouldn't wake up sweating and screaming and your nails drawing blood in your own hand because your fist is clenched so tight."

Elizabeth wiped her face, just realizing there were tears running down it. Morgan moved a little closer and asked, "Does that make sense, Elizabeth? They don't call it assault for nothing." She paused, wondering how far to push her luck. "No one asks to be mugged, or to be stabbed, or to get hit by a car. And no one asks to be raped."

"What if I love him," Elizabeth whispered. "What if I wanted it at first, but then I didn't... and I didn't have the guts to tell him no?"

Morgan grabbed her hand. "How badly were you hurt?"

Elizabeth's voice dropped to a mere breeze. "He... put things... in me. I didn't know he would do that- I just thought-"

"What, honey?" Elliot said from the door, "Morgan, I couldn't find-" and then he saw his daughter's tear-streaked face, Morgan holding her hand and looking close to tears herself. He took his place beside her once again, and looked at Morgan with a million questions in his eyes.

She didn't have the answer to any of them.


	5. Chapter 5

"Lizzie," Elliot said softly. She had broken down in tears for what seemed like hours, unable to finish whatever she had been saying. Morgan sniffled, and wiped her face with her sleeve, never letting of his daughter's hand.

When Elliot looked at her quizically, she half-smiled and said, "I have a strict policy no one cries alone in my presence."

"Steel Magnolias," Elizabeth whispered. She drew her legs up against her body and rested her chin on her knees.

Elliot leaned towards her. "What, sweetie?"

"Steel Magnolias. That's where that line is from. Dolly Parton."

Morgan smiled. "My kinda girl." She hugged Liz around the shoulders, and Elliot did the same. Morgan stood up after a moment and looked around for a box of Kleenex, offering it to Elizabeth after using one herself.

Suddenly, a knock on the door startled all of them. Elliot opened it to see Olivia who he immediatly smiled at.

"How're you guys holding up?" she asked, giving him a quick hug without even thinking about it.

Elliot sighed. "Could be better..."

"Olivia!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Olivia held up a package and Elizabeth crawled across the couch and reached for it, tearing the gold foil bag open.

"Chocolate strawberries! From Godiva? SCORE!" Morgan yelled. Olivia jumped- she hadn't seen the younger women. "I mean, uh. Enjoy," she told Elizabeth with a smile.

"Don't worry, I don't think even I could eat all twelve..." Elizabeth joked. Morgan noticied the pained smile on Olivia's face, and felt very oddly out of place.

"I think you need a girl's night," Olivia said. "I have everything but the movies. Even crappy nail polish."

"Popcorn?" Elizabeth asked. "Dad hates popcorn."

"You don't like _popcorn_?" Morgan asked incredously. "What kind of freak are you?" She was glad the mood had lightened- not for Elizabeth's sake, who had been about to let down her guard, but her own.

She felt distinctly over her head here. Never before had she worked with parents who had such a good grasp of what to do, who kept trying to do her job for her. She normally would have sequestered the girl off, stuffed her full of chocolate, and waited for the story to come out. She was a big believer in the healing powers of chocolate. But with Olivia and Elliot around... well, she hadn't felt this insecure since her first clincal rotation. Her instincts, which she usually trusted without exception, seemed subject to constant second-guessing and inspection. Mostly from herself too. Worst kind, really. At least when it was other people, you could write them off as idiots. Hard to do that when the person criticizing you was your own head.

"It's nasty," Elliot's voice jarred her from her circular logic, pretending to be offended. "I-"

"You are so weird," Morgan and Elizabeth said at the same time.

"Well, Miss Elizabeth," Morgan said, "I think some Dolly Parton and Julia Roberts are in order. To go with your lovely strawberries of course." She would try again to get her alone in the car; she knew from experience how hard telling your story in front of an audience was. "Up for a car ride?"

"I'll go with you," Olivia said, almost too quickly, but not quite. "I'm sure you need directions anyway."

Morgan quickly covered her frustration. Plan B. "Sure, thanks! I have no idea where anything is. This city is worse than San Antonio." She grabbed her jacket, and picked up her purse. Like she didn't know where the bloody video store was. Please.

Elliot blinked when he saw her purse inside, then put two and two together. Morgan had sent him out to the car. Elizabeth had stopped talking as soon as he came in the room. Morgan had tried to get Elizabeth alone again just now, by offering a ride. For whatever reason... his daughter didn't trust him. And apparently, neither did this woman. What did they think he would do? He was an SVU Detective for Chrissakes. He was the last person who would tell her she had asked for it, or that she must have done something to bring it on herself, or any of the other crap he heard every day from parents who didn't have a clue. He could almost get pissed about it, if he thought it over long enough.

"You don't know tangled streets until you've been here," Olivia told her, jerking Elliot out of his train of thought.

"I thought people paving over old cattle trails was bad," Morgan trailed off. "Anything else y'all want? Movie, popcorn..."

"I think that'll cover it," Elliot said, looking at Elizabeth, who also nodded. Morgan rummaged around in her purse for her keys when Olivia said cheerfully, "I'll drive."

Morgan grimaced inwardly. She would have to be deaf to miss the venom in the older woman's tone.

The second they were in the car, Morgan realized she was indeed about to be on the business end of Olivia's very formidable verbal fangs.

"I don't know what you think you're all about, sauntering in like you're the answer to his prayers, but he's been hurt enough, and by God, I swear, if you think you can just-"

"Uh. Before you continue, could I know what in the Sam hell you're talking about?"

"Oh, give up the sourthen bell crap."

"I'm about to get pissed, lady," Morgan spat, unsheathing some claws of her own. "Just what is your problem?"

"You JUST MET Elliot, and already you-"

"You're jealous," Morgan said flatly. "Of me." This time, her tone had a definite tone of disbelief. If it wasn't so absurd, she would have laughed.

Olivia stopped ranting for a moment. "I most certainly am not."

"Oh," Morgan replied, not beliving it for a minute. "Well, just in case you are and don't feel like sharing that with the class, you have absolutely no reason to be. Elliot's good looking and all, but he certainly isn't worth my job."

Olivia stared dead center down her car, wishing she had kept her mouth shut. She WAS jealous, and it sucked. She hadn't felt this ridiculous since high school. Scratch that- she had never felt this ridiculous.

"My job is to help Elizabeth. That's it," Morgan told her, trying to make peace. "Besides, he won't be interested in me anyways."

"Don't be stupid," Olivia snapped, jerking the car into a parking space. She opened her door and hit the automatic locks, before Morgan even had a chance to undo her seatbelt. Morgan debated sitting in the car and sulking, then decided thatcome off asa little childish. She got out of the car, and ran to catch up with Olivia.

"Sweetheart?" Morgan drawled, sounding just like the movie they were coming to pick up. "I'm Mormon, and I'm married." She walked into Olivia's back as the other woman stopped dead.

"So you got nothing to worry about."

"You're married?" Olivia asked incredously once they were on the way back. Before she could ask the question Morgan always heard, she pulled a ring on a gold chain out from under her shirt.

"I'm always paranoid it'll fall off when I'm out, so I only wear it at home."

"But you- you're only-"

"Twenty-six."

"I hate you," Olivia said jokingly. Morgan noticied she had lightened up considerably once hearing about her marital status.

"Yeah, well. Just happened that way."

"How'd you meet him?" Olivia asked, checking her rearview mirror, or pretending to so she could glance at Morgan again.

"Through my work. Not too many Mormons out to save the world's used and abused, so we started going out. He was twenty-six when I met him; I was eighteen."

"Bit of an age difference."

"Yeah, well, you know. I'm sure you remember what guys are like in that age bracket." Morgan took a deep breath before continuing. "Elizabeth told me you were there when the rape kit was done?"

Olivia had been wondering when she'd get to this. "Yeah. I was."

"What was she like? Her emotional state, I mean. Shocked, afraid..."

"By that point... she was just numb. She didn't have any reserves left, not enough energy to be afraid anymore."

"And she came to the precinct? Any idea how?"

Olivia took a deep breath of her own. "I don't know. She wouldn't tell anyone."

"She said she told you."

Well. That was thoughtful of her, Olivia said to herself bitterly. Between a rock and a hard place now.

"She should be the one to tell you."

Morgan nodded. "All right."

Silence descended again until they were back at Elliot's. Morgan snatched the plastic sack and headed to the door.

"What's the hold up?" Olivia called as she peeled her coat off, walking up the steps behind Morgan, who for some reason hadn't opened the door.

"Olivia..." Morgan said quietly, her already pale face gone white as a sheet.

"What?"

"Look..." Morgan started to tremble as Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her face.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- Well my dears, I hope you can forgive me for that cliffhanger! I just  
****had to make sure that you came back for this one... it should more than  
satisfy. Rated Teen for smut... ah, but who gets our favorite blue-eyed  
detective?  
**

_"Elliot!"_ Olivia screamed, grabbing the handle.

Elliot slammed the door open, the doorknob ripping into his wall. "What in  
the- For God's sake, don't DO that-" he stammered once he saw that there  
wasn't a mad rapist on his front porch.

Anymore, anyway.

Morgan held out a shaky hand, holding three photographs. "These were on the  
door when we got home..."

Elliot took them just as Elizabeth came to the door. "What happ-" Olivia,  
Elliot and Morgan all snapped their heads up at her. Elliot tried to turn  
the pictures away from her, but her small hand grabbed his and held it.

They were her pictures, after all.

"I knew he'd come back," Elizabeth whispered.

"Liz, who is he?" Elliot said, his voice barely contained, the quiet tone  
deadly- the moment of stillness as a rattlesnake waits for the perfect  
moment to strike. He clenched his fists around the pictures, crushing them,  
and wished he could do the same to whoever took them.

When Elizabeth could only stand there, crying and shaking, Elliot coudn't  
take it. "Son of a _bitch!_" he shouted, slamming one of his fists  
into the wall. "Fucking _coward!_ I DARE you to come back here, I  
FUCKING DARE YOU to try and hurt her again!" He ran to the railing, leaning  
over. "YOU HEAR ME, YOU LITTLE PUNK? YOU JUST TRY AND FACE ME!" Elliot gripped the metal rail with both hands, his grasp as tight as his jaw was  
clenched. Olivia walked over to him and laid a hand on his back, hesitantly.  
He flinched like she'd struck him, and instinctively raised his hand, then  
lowered it back down.

"Why don't you guys go for a ride," Morgan said quietly, stepping towards the door. She motioned for Elizabeth to follow her inside. "Look, you two just go sort yourselves out-"

"Don't talk to me like that," Elliot said hoarsely. He looked close to being  
sick.

"C'mon, Elliot," Olivia said, placing her hand on his back again. "You're no  
use to Elizabeth like this. And you're scaring her."

"And me," Morgan muttered. She wrapped an arm around Elizabeth, who had gone from terrified shock to just shock.

"Fine," Elliot snapped, storming down the stairs. Olivia took a deep breath,  
and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Sure. Foist him off on me like this," she told Morgan before following her  
irate partner down the stairs to her car.

"We've got a chick flick, chocolate strawberries, and popcorn with our names  
on 'em, girlie whirlie," Morgan said lightly. "Thought I admit this spoils the mood." Elizabeth didn't say anything, just stood next to the door.

"C'mon," Morgan stepped inside and held the door open. "Come inside."  
Elizabeth followed her and sat on the couch, utterly silent. Her face was  
motionless. She crossed her arms and let some of her hair fall forward,  
hiding her eyes. Tears fell down her face without so much as a sniffle.

Morgan sighed, and crouched in front of the TV. "Can you show me how to make  
the DVD player work?"

Elizabeth picked up the remote, and switched the picture and turned it on.  
Morgan found the EJECT button and put in the movie. Once the strains of  
country music and Southern scenery started, she sat on the couch next to  
Elizabeth.

"I remember the first time I saw this movie. I just love the beauty parlor  
scene. And all the colors of everything. It's so different from here, you  
know, in the south. Everything is just so much slower there. I always  
thought that was silly, but it's true. And I even grew up in a pretty good  
sized city."

Morgan was just going to talk until Elizabeth said something back. Elizabeth  
let her go on for awhile, talking to her, talking to herself, talking to the  
movie. Laughing at herself, at the one-liners.

"I didn't know he took pictures," she blurted out suddenly, the words  
surprising her. "Oh, _God_, he took _pictures!"_ She buried her  
face in the pillow beside her, curling up tightly.

Morgan turned down the sound, and waited for the rest to come. And it did.

"He came back... Why did he come back? He got what he wanted, he got it, why  
does he hate me so much... Morgan, why?"

"Because he's a coward, and a bastard, and... oh honey, I don't know. He  
wants to control someone, he wants to make them hurt and scream. He might  
thinks that means they love him if they do whatever he wants, he might want  
someone to hurt as much as he does... I don't know."

"What did I do to make him _hate_ me so much?" Elizabeth demanded.

"I don't know. You'll have to tell me what happened," Morgan said gently.

"Where are we going?" Elliot finally asked, once they were free of the city  
and had hit open highway.

"I have no idea. The beach sounds nice."

"It's forty degrees outside, Liv."

"I didn't say we'd go swimming, idiot."

"What the hell is this, anyway?"

"What?"

"This. All of this. Liz won't tell me what happened. But she'll tell some  
total stranger in an ER, she'll cry in front of this Texas cowgirl wannabe,  
when I haven't seen her cry since she was nine and skinned her knee, and  
she'll- you-"

"She told me."

"Just what in the hell does she think I'm going to do?" Elliot asked,  
frustration and helplessness in his voice instead of anger.

"This."

_"What do you mean 'this'?"_

"She's afraid you're going to lose it. To scream and hit things and want to  
stand him against a tree and shoot him."

"Well, excuse the hell outta me! I didn't know I wasn't allowed to be-"

"Would you shut up and think about her for five seconds?" Olivia cried.  
"Yes, we're all very impressed with your big manly muscles and how loudly  
you can scream and shout and break things, but that isn't what she needs.  
She needs you to shut up and listen to her, and cry and hug her and tell her  
how sorry you are and that you love her, and- Goddammit, Elliot-" she made a  
fist and raised it to smack the steering wheel, but stopped herself. She  
gritted her teeth and gripped the wheel so hard her knuckles showed white.

"What?" he asked, spitting the word out. _"WHAT, Liv!"_ he shouted,  
sick to death of everyone handling him with kid gloves.

She screeched the car to a halt, swerving over to the shoulder. She turned  
to face him, fire in her dark eyes. "Do not," she started, her voice too  
calm for the anger that she felt. "Ever. Talk. To me. Like that. I am trying  
to help you, and this time, I'm not just going to walk away from whatever  
fireworks show you want to put on to keep everyone out, because this time?  
It's not about you. It's about Elizabeth, and you finally seeing why you  
cannot just shut everyone out, like you can lock yourself up and throw away  
the damn key. If you want to act like a five year old throwing a temper  
tantrum, you go RIGHT the hell ahead. But you are NOT getting out of this  
car until you finally face whatever is making you like this. Or I swear, you  
can fucking WALK back home, and don't expect to come back with a shit-eating  
grin on your face and make it all better with a half-ass explanation. I  
swear to God, I will talk to Cragen and have you taken off the squad, and  
don't you think for a second I wouldn't do it." At his shocked and betrayed  
face, Olivia laughed cruelly. "Do you think we're _stupid?_ That we  
don't know what you'd do when we catch her rapist?"

"I'd kill him," Elliot said tightly, the muscles in his arms trembling to  
keep his fists from going through her window. "I'd kill him with my bare  
hands. He hurt my little girl."

Olivia just kept looking at him, breathing heavily, like she'd start up on  
her rant again any minute. He looked out the window, watching the headlights  
of cars whizzing past him.

"Tell me," Olivia whispered, all trace of temper gone from her voice, now  
all soft and husky in the dark car. "Elliot, please tell me."

"I should have known. The nurse... said there were old scars... they're too  
deep... someone hurt her before, and I should have known."

Olivia sat silently, dying to tell him what Elizabeth had in the hospital.  
She pursed her lips and waited.

"She... she didn't tell me. Someone hurt her, and she knows who, and they  
hurt her..." Elliot closed his eyes to try and stay ahead of his tears, but  
they broke free anyway. For the first time, Olivia heard grief and guilt  
break his voice, not anger. Even that night Lizzie had told them, he had  
just reacted to what happened, not really let himself see what was  
happening. What had already happened.

He knew why he hadn't seen it before. He'd been too busy seeing something  
that wasn't there, too occupied to even think about his own children. He  
couldn't tell her. She'd die if she knew. She'd hate him if she knew.

_God, this must be what Lizzie feels like..._

"Elliot..." Olivia breathed, reaching across to brush her fingertips across  
his cheek, drying his tears. He looked up, and their eyes locked.

_Oh..._ was all she had time to think before suddenly they were both  
leaning in, and his hand was on the nape of her neck, tangling her hair,  
then his lips met hers with the softest touch.

She pulled back for the tiniest second, then forgot why she had as he  
followed her, resting his forehead against hers and she tilted her face to  
kiss him again, deeper this time. She brought both hands to cradle his face,  
heat flooding through her. Elliot pulled her closer with one arm across her  
back, and with his free hand, tilted his seat back. She clumsily half-fell  
on top of him and a passing car's lights illuminated their faces for an  
instant. One side of his mouth tilted up, and she smiled back.

"Hi," he said simply. She smiled broader.

"Hi, yoursel-" and then he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close.  
She swung her legs across the seat, straddling him with her knees.

"Now I remember why I hate sex in cars," she muttered after another  
breathless kiss.

Elliot devoutly hoped she had a plan for how this was going to work, because  
the last time he'd done this, he was twenty-two years more flexible, and it  
didn't help that his mind had utterly deserted him at her last three words.

"My apartment is a little occupied," he meant to say, but he'd forgotten how  
to speak as her hands were doing something absolutely wonderful to the  
button of his jeans.

_No! Wait! Stop! NOT GOOD!_ a voice inside her head yelled at her.  
_BAD PLAN!_ She shoved it aside in her mind. She'd been listening to  
that voice for years, and damned if it was going to stop her after they'd  
gone this far.

Elliot flipped her over, pinning her to the seat from the waist down.  
Somehow her bra got undone in the process. His hands slid over her back, and  
he marveled at how silky and soft her skin was. She shivered at his touch,  
his hands cold as the wintry night outside, but his hands felt fused to her  
skin, and she liked it that way.

Their mouths met again, and this time Olivia parted her lips, her tongue  
gently slipping into his mouth. She could taste the tears from just minutes  
before as he searched for something in her, and apparently found it. They  
stayed like that, seemingly every possible inch touching, her back arched  
into his body, locked for hours, seconds, days, not even a moment, before he  
had to break it off to catch his breath. It came in short, raspy gasps that  
wouldn't fill his chest, and Olivia reached for him again. He shook his head  
halfway, still trying to remember how to breathe.

She whispered his name, and cupped his cheek in one small hand. He looked  
into her eyes again, and suddenly she was afraid. She was absolutely  
terrified he would regret this, that it would be chalked up to an emotional  
day and sexual energy, nothing special. She shook beneath him,  
uncontrollably, and took her own ragged breath, choked with tears about to  
reach the surface.

He saw her eyes, glazed with unabashed lust start to fill, and immediatly  
focused on her. "'Liv," he said softly.

She closed her eyes, the tears that had been welling in her eyes falling down her face. Elliot rolled to the side and let her sit up. She swiped at the tears and sniffled.

"What?" Elliot whispered, keeping his arm around her. "Sweetheart?"

"I don't want-" she started, then stopped with her hand to her mouth. She took another deep breath to steady herself.

She said it so quietly he couldn't hear her. He leaned closer to her.

"I don't want it to be like this," she repeated nearly under her breath.


End file.
